Dragon's Wager
by Acradius
Summary: Every Hyrule is menaced by Ganon now and then, but Cia threatens them all at once! What would have happened if Link had not been rescued by his friends when he fell for her trap? Crossover with Warmachine!
1. Chapter 1

_Author's notes: Hey all, welcome to my story. Legal shenanigans: I don't own any rights to any of the characters or setting in this work of fan fiction, please don't sue me because I'm fresh out of coins to fetch from between my couch seats to give you. I'm just writing this for my own enjoyment and because I've been playing way too much Hyrule Warriors: Legends recently. Go get the game, it's totally worth it. Also buy Warmachine because it's fun as hell._

 _I'm not going to claim for this fic to be any good, but if you read it and like it, reviews are always appreciated._

Chapter 1

Time was an important thing in Hyrule. Legends of heroes traversing it like a river, moving in-between future and past and present filled the books and scrolls of the scholars. Farmers depended on the seasons for their planting and harvest, merchants kept accurate track of their businesses by measuring the hours and minutes they paid their workers for. The natural rhythms of the days and nights were mathematically broken-down based on the movement of the heavens, and each hour's end was marked by the tolling of a bell in the Temple of Time.

The massive, clockwork-filled building was constantly humming with the dull roar of the furnaces below. The Goronite fire heating the water from the Black River had been burning for nearly a century straight, and the steam that billowed from the top of the chimney that ran through the clocktower turned so many gears and crankshafts and pulleys that multiple maintenance teams were required to specialize in keeping different sections running smoothly. Huge, oilskin-bound tomes full of blueprints had been locked away in the temple archives, and the pile of scrolls detailing improvements, replacements, corrections, and annotations seemed to grow more mountainous every day. As ancient as the imposing, white marble building was, and with its doors flung open for any citizen of Hyrule, it was considered to be one of the most important structures in the city.

Everything within the capital city of Caspia was set to the clarion tones of the temple bells. There was the Bell of Commons, the smallest, lightest-tone, and most often-rung bell that was used every hour. Then came the Bell of Lords, rung once to announce the sunrise, again to announce the sunset, and during special occasions, such as weddings, graduations, or coming-of-age ceremonies. The final bell was the Bell of Kings. Rarely heard, it was rung only on seasonal holidays held at the solstices and equinoxes of the year. That, and on days of national importance.

Though the Planting Festival had passed just shy of a month ago, today the King's Bell echoed like thunder throughout the streets of Caspia, its tones with a chill note on this warm morning. Its call drew forth the citizens from all the walks of life, and there in the shadow of the temple clocktower, they gathered. The crowd was hushed, reverent, and the somber sound of the massive bell passed over them in waves. A few among them asked what was going on that would cause the King's Bell to ring. Most of them knew already.

As the ringing stopped, a silence fell on the crowd like a linen sheet. Out of the temple, and down the white marble steps came Lord Commander Link of Old Hylia. He walked with immaculate gait, and stood sharply at attention, the blues and golds of his dress uniform, blazing bright colors against a white canvas. His blond hair was high-and-tight, and his piercing blue eyes gazed out over the crowd, like he was looking for some sort of signal before unlocking the intricate clockwork lock emblazoned with the royal seal of Hyrule on the white parchment scroll he held in his right hand. Unlike many of his people, he wore no hood, headband, or hat to hide the long, pointed ears that marked him as a Hylian, instead having them pierced in the traditions of his people, with simple gold hoops that could have just as easily been rings for his fingers. He looked every bit the hero of the people that every citizen of Lanayru Province held him as: young, strong, invincible in combat. His exploits were rapidly becoming legends in their own right.

Though he was indeed the stuff that stories were written about, there was no cheer for Link this day. No hearty slaps on the back after a heated battle, no noble ladies 'accidentally' losing their handkerchiefs in a fit of very sudden fainting, no young boys rushing up to him and asking if they can be as great as he was some day. He silently fetched a tiny, impossibly elaborate key, no longer than his thumb, from a gold thread around his neck, and inserted it into the lock, and for the first time in his already storied time as Commander of Lanayru's prestigious Third Army, his people could see that today, their hero stood before them, defeated.

Without preamble, he read. "Noble citizens of the Kingdom of Hyrule, people chosen by the Goddess Hylia, and all who walk the many countries and wildernesses of the world, we ask today for a single moment of decency and reverence. King Leto Raelthron Hyrule, after his long and prosperous reign of forty-seven years, four months, and ten days, has joined the royal line of Raelthorns, to serve at the behest of Nayru, Farore, and Din. May the golden power of the Triforce watch over him eternally." He brought the scroll down, and with all gathered, from the common people that had flooded the square in front of the Temple of Time, to the nobles and merchants in their nearby towers and shops, bowed his head for a full minute. At the end of which, three times more, the Bell of Kings rang, three blows finalizing the worst fears of everyone in the kingdom.

People were ready for it. Leto the Kind, Leto the Humble, Leto the Magnanimous, had been Leto the Old, Leto the Sickly, and Leto the Unseen for almost a year now. Still, he had been the best ruler that historians had ever had the pleasure of documenting, even during darker times. He would be missed dearly, have endless paintings and statues in his image, and spoken well of, even by his enemies… mostly.

And here was Link, needing to go on with the first post-Leto-era proclamation ever, wondering why the world was a little fuzzy, and why this paper was heavier than a mortar shell right now. Still, he hefted it aloft again, and continued. "As the people know, King Leto has passed without any royal heir or heiress, and formally declined to appoint a Regent, citing personal reasons. He has been publicly quoted to 'know of no-one who would serve the people of Hyrule before serving themselves' when asked who he would nominate for his replacement.

"The High Council of Hyrule will continue to be the governing body of the land. The seat of The Crown on the council will remain vacant for the time being. The Seats of The Ring, The Shield, The Scepter, The Scroll, and The Coin shall remain unchanged. In accordance with the King's final wishes, the holder of the Seat of The Seal, currently occupied by Calvin Davenport of Corvis, shall receive an extra Council vote, to be used only during the event of a tie." This caused a whisper to spread throughout the crowd. While all the other Council Seats were chosen by the Nobles, the combined vote of confidence of the Army, Navy, Guards, and Spymasters, the Interfaith Board, the Dean of the College, and the Merchant's Guild respectively, the Seat of The Seal was occupied by a citizen-elected commoner ineligible for any other Seat, provided that he had no prior criminal record. One final act of generosity to the lay people of Hyrule from King Leto was to place his trust in them as he parted this world.

The Seat of The Crown, obviously, was intended to be filled by Hyrule's monarch, whoever that may be. "The King," Link continued, "also wishes to express his deepest regrets, and would like to apologize to the people of Hyrule in the sincerest fashion. While at this time, there is no current royal heir or heiress to the throne, the line of Raelthorn is suspected to not be at an end." A shocked gasp rose from the crowd. A secret heir? The energy of the entire yard shifted. Where people were at first content to go about mourning and scoffing at the imagined bickering that the country would fall into while six politicians squabbled over who should be the next King of Hyrule, now things were interesting. While the line of Raelthorn wasn't always the best for the kingdom, history had proven that it could produce some amazing people.

Questions rose quickly, and though unvoiced, Link could hear them already. Why did the King tell nobody about this? Why wait until his death bed? Who is this person? Lord Commander Link read on. "Nearly twenty summers ago, during a diplomatic trip to Llael, King Leto Raelthorn Hyrule had a brief… indiscretion, with a woman of Hylian blood." He gave no time for a comment to be made. The king had wished this to be revealed, but it was Link's decision not to let it get ugly from here. "It is known that this night was not without its miracles. Though unrevealed to the public, King Leto supplied the Hylian woman, Alyndra, with ample resources, if sparse communication. In one of these letters that the King had kept, it was revealed that he did, in fact, have a daughter. This was later verified by a priestess of Nayru, being an expert in the arts maternal. The King visited his daughter but once. While he spoke little beyond confirming her existence, he described her as being fair-haired, with green eyes, and her Hylian blood is obvious via her ears. In the tradition of Hyrulean royalty, the first daughter of the family was given the name Zelda.

"This description is being passed along by the High Council of Hyrule based on the King's final wishes that Zelda be placed on Hyrule's throne, and serve as the Seat of the Crown, but only if it is to her wishes. Therefore, a bounty of five hundred Wieldworths has been earmarked for the safe and willing return of Princess Zelda Raelthorn Hyrule to her lawful and rightful home of Hyrule Castle." That certainly changed the tempo of the already-flowing gossip. If the government was ready to deal in actual coin instead of its paper Warworth bills, it meant that they were serious.

"Finally, King Leto Raelthorn Hyrule bids his people happiness, peace, and prosperity, and sincerely hopes that he has preceded the best days of his kingdom. His wish is that Hyrule becomes a kingdom with a future so bright that his very reign is forgotten behind its future glory." He closed the scroll and finished, "But I think we all know there's little chance of that happening. History has a way of immortalizing its heroes. Back to business as we know it, everyone. The funeral procession will be held tomorrow at Lord's Bell, and it will be a national holiday. For today, put your backs into it. There's a war on, after all."


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

"And so… It is decided," the green, glowing form of Lich Lord Corripio announced, his metallic, moth-like wings raised. "By unanimous decree, we strip from you, Morbus, the title of Lich Lord. Your phylactery will be immediately removed from the Convocation and summarily destroyed, to prevent the military secrets of our glorious nation of Cryx from falling into enemy hands. Do you have any last words?" With that, his dispassionate interest lost already, Corripio's projection pumped its wings and angled up. As a magically projected presence, his form in the Convocation echoed what his physical body was doing in real life, but didn't account for actually changing location, making it look like he was flying hard in place. In reality, he was probably flitting about the Archive of Skell, distracted on some research project. Corripio never really was a good multi-tasker.

By contrast, Morbus looked like only a small, floating orb, hanging in front of his phylactery. It was what happened when a Lich Lord's body was destroyed. Three days ago, before the surprise attack on his transport by Hyrulean forces from the Eldin province, Morbus would have appeared as a sort of upside-down squid, with a different tool attached to each of his dozen, tentacle-like appendages, which surrounded a glass bell that contained the preserved remains of his human head. All of this was mounted on a circular platform, raised above the ground on a metal, wheeled pillar, making him look rather like a mushroom as well. Morbus was not a fighter. In the past, he was a true artist, cobbling together the mechanical monstrosities that gave the races of Hyrule nightly terrors. These days though, it seemed like his glory was far behind him, and he mostly spent his time knocking about the massive manufactorum situated beneath the city of Skell. He had taken to the field last week for the first time in decades, prattling on about some new creature that had inspired him. In truth, it was probably the tongue-lashing he received from the rest of the Convocation that motivated him, as his latest and greatest creations had swiftly fallen to an encounter with an Eldin artillery barrage, even though he boasted that their increased armor would more than make up for their reduced mobility.

"Push off," Morbus said, obviously not a very good loser, "the lot of you. This was a damned set-up, and if I'm the only one who sees it, my only regret is that I don't get to see the rest of you burn yourselves down with this petty infighting." The now former head of the Cryxian war industry brought up a valid point. Internal politicking had been steadily on the rise since the sudden disappearance of the true master of Cryx. "It's very convenient that this is all happening while Lord Toruk is away."

This visibly irked the green projection of Divinitus, head of the Church of Toruk, who acted as the interpreter for the colossal, skeletal dragon when he was perched at his usual place in Skell. His form, always considered one of the weirder ones by all the other Lich Lords, was chosen when he offered himself up as sacrifice to Toruk by installing a breathing apparatus into his back and coating himself in molten gold. Consequently, he was locked in a bowed down position with his head, hands, and knees permanently stuck to a slab, with a vent he now used to dispense burning incense, becoming a portable, undead shrine to Toruk. The wisps of green smoke that surrounded him in the Convocation puffed as though he were yelling, and his shrill voice translated a bit too well from his projection. "Mind your tongue, Morbus. We know not of Toruk's plans, he may well be bringing back an assured victory as we speak, something that you have often promised, but never delivered. Mind you, this was a unanimous vote, meaning that the Church of Toruk has lost its faith in you. Turning to our Lord for salvation would be useless, whether he is present or not."

The Convocation all made noise to join in on the bickering, but Lich Lord Terminus, standing a full meter taller than any of his associates simply stated " **Enough** ," which was all it took to put a stop to that. His skeletal wings flexed, not for mobility like Corripio, but more as a habit when he was trying to emphasize a point. " **If the last words of this garbage is to complain, his usefulness is already spent. Get him out of here.** " With that, the phylactery of the winged giant, who had replaced as many of his own bones as possible with those of a drake, disengaged its lock from the Convocation. Wordlessly, knowing it was time, the rest did the same.

The Convocation was both a system of government in Cryx, and a physical device. At the same time, it allowed the thirteen Lich Lords a way to instantly communicate with each other, and it held all their phylacteries, necromechanikal devices designed to recall and hold their souls if their physical bodies were ever destroyed. The full array was a circular box, about a meter wide, so the green projections were actually only an inch or two tall. Obviously, to each Lich Lord, their phylactery was priceless beyond compare. The agreements of the Convocation were that each member keep their souls in the same place, and that no other phylacteries be made. Otherwise, in true Cryxian tradition (which arose from a council of pirates no less), every member would be engaged in their official duties as well as seeking out the phylacteries of all the other members in an attempt to destroy them. The heavy guard that the Convocation was under made this fairly desirable, although in a situation like this, when a unanimous vote was used to remove someone from the group, there was little the voted-out member could do but accept his fate.

Outside the Convocation Chamber, twelve guards, one for every Lich Lord but Morbus, inserted their keys into a large, circular lock. A heavy, steel-and-stone door slid open, and the new replacement for Lich Lord Morbus entered the seat of Cryxian power. While the chamber that the Convocation was stored in could be accessed from the outside, only once twelve of the thirteen Lich Lords willed their phylacteries to disconnect would the Convocation itself open, and it had. The heavy mechanikal locks were disengaged, exposing the entire group to the outside world. It drove the message home for the Lich Lords: stand together, or fall together.

Mortenebra, who had been running an ancillary manufactorum hidden under mainland Hyrule for nearly three quarters of a century, slid with unearthly grace over the stone floor, her brass ballroom dress born aloft by twenty miniature, insectoid legs hidden beneath the skirt. In life, she may have been a woman of beauty, but now, like her fellow Liches, she was a walking corpse, kept whole and animated by the darkest magic and mechanika. She gently plucked Morbus' cage-like phylactery from the outer edge of the Convocation, letting some rare drafts of what qualified for fresh air in Skell into the box. Emotionless under the helmet that obscured the top half of her face, she took her own phylactery, which was a newer, more graceful creation than the old one Morbus had, and inserted it into the Convocation.

As her own projection lit up the inside of the small box, she joined her now rightful place among the other twelve Lich Lords. Malathrax, a spindly and disjointed humanoid of a lich, shrouded in a cloak, with an ever-shifting mechanikal mask over his face, put a gentlemanly visage on and bowed low. "Allow me to be the first to welcome you to the Convocation, Lich Lady Mortenebra."

"Always good to have another girl in the room," said Lich Lady Thalassina, who among all of them looked almost entirely human, her plate mail armor filled with the most intricate systems to keep her as close to 'alive' as it gets.

"To be honest," piped up Daegheron, from his eight-legged walking coffin apparatus, "I'm just glad to not be the new guy anymore."

"Let's get back to business everyone," Lich Lord Asphyxious, who had been remarkably silent for some time now, despite being one of the movers and shakers in Cryx, finally spoke. "Mortenebra, I'll expect a full report on the state of the primary manufactorum within a week. It's doubtful that Morbus had any aces hiding up his sleeve, but if he did, I want them all on the table. Also, would you please do the honors of his execution while you are still in the Convocation Chamber?"

"With pleasure, Lord Asphyxious." Her voice sounded like refined oil pouring down black glass. She held Morbus' phylactery aloft with her right hand, and the two mechanical servo-claws she had installed to her shoulder blades took it from her, and unceremoniously broke it in half, releasing the soul it contained to the afterlife.

"Excellent. Now, if there's no further business…" Asphyxious' floating skull rotated from left to right in the gap between the shoulders of his battle armor, his glowing green monocle carefully scanning his fellow Lich Lords and Ladies. He still retained his mostly humanoid shape, with the exception of his complete lack of flesh. Bone, metal, and soul only for him. Receiving no response from anyone else, he finished, "Then I move we adjourn for the day."

"Seconded." The word came from multiple voices, happy to have the unpleasant business of the day finished, and to be able to get back to their individual projects. With that, one by one, the green projections winked out.

" **You play a dangerous game, Asphyxious** ," Terminus said, once his soul was properly back in his monstrous mechanikal body. The choking-hot Eldin wind bothered neither of the two undead men, instead merely fluttering the strips of leather that Terminus had between his wings. " **But I admit, you're good at it.** "

Amused, Asphyxious stood from where he sat on the wrecked mechanikal husk that used to be Lich Lord Morbus, and strode through the sand. "I told you, old friend. I play the long game. Stay on my side, stay alive, wind up the victor."

" **By my count, with Mortenebra on our side, and including Thalassina, Malathrax, Tenebrus, and Daegheron, we now hold a majority vote. We can bend the entire nation of Cryx to our will.** "

"Yes. Even if Fulmenous and Corripio actually cast a vote against us with Venethrax, Divinitus, Angorus, and Scorpulous, we can make a show of force and override them seven to six. Still, we must be cautious. Throwing our weight around will only cause resentment in the ranks, and as good as we are, we can't afford to slip up." He looked down at the remains of Morbus, letting the destroyed machine make his point for him.

" **I'm still concerned that Toruk will feel the loss of Morbus.** "

Asphyxious let the comment hang, stagnating in the air as sure as the few bits of flesh intermixed with metal. He chose not to answer. "Such a shame," he said as he hefted his spear, Daemortus. It bore the name of his former superior, and whose remains it was crafted from. "Usually I believe in waste not, want not, but I'm afraid old Morbus was just too…"

" **Useless?** "

"As a funeral is to the dead."


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

One would not call the view of the Black River a scenic one. Its name was not given by tradition, the water was brackish and polluted. It stretched long enough to form almost the entire eastern province border, and was wide enough that it had a tide like a large lake or sea. At high-tide, it smelled of entirely too much soot and the waste of the largest city in Lanayru Province. At low-tide, it smelled like rotten fish.

Yet, it was one of Link's favorite places to relax; more specifically, at a table at a small cafe with a balcony looking out over the river. He had a standing reservation for a small table in the far-right corner, right at the wooden bannister erected to prevent people from falling onto the cobblestone street below. He picked this spot in particular because there was an overhang from the balcony of the building next door, which at night was a far more popular drinking establishment. Their second-story wrap-around bar provided shade in the sun, and shelter in the rain for this little table. There was only one chair, as nobody ever joined him here. He was such a fixture here that he seemed more like part of the furniture and ambiance than he did a war hero. Link quite liked it this way.

From here, he could observe the third busiest port in all of Hyrule, with only Mercir and the notorious Five Fingers ahead. All through the day and night, steamships and galleons and sloops and cutters drifted along the Black River's surface like a haphazard ballet. Caspia's port could hold even the largest of Lanayru's imposing warships, but many of the larger cargo barges preferred to avoid large docking fees by dropping anchor out in the river proper, and then sending smaller boats filled to the brim with goods.

The larger ships that decided that the cost of docking was worth it, or were here on request by the Hyrulean High Council, had their goods removed by massive, steam-powered cranes, often situated in their own shipping warehouses. It was rare to see any boxes moved by hand, however. Once the cargo was on land, or the smaller ships had docked, moving it was usually the job of a Steamjack.

Coming in almost any size you could imagine, from the knee-high Halfjacks to the fourteen-foot hull (sixteen if you included the smokestacks) Thunderhead-class Warjacks, the Steamjacks had changed the face of the world six hundred years ago, with the invention of the magical Cortex. It was a fusion of the most intricate technology and the most complicated magic possible, enabling a machine with skin of tempered steel and a coal furnace for a heart to see, hear, and understand commands, as well as move like a human, and learn to fight like one as well. The first Steamjacks were the Colossals: titans of metal and fire, fifty feet tall and armed to the bolts with every spare gunpowder device the Hyruleans could muster. Even two of the last few still in service stood at the gates of Caspia, standing vigilant against any invasion from the Eldin Province. They were considered crude by today's standards, but their sheer size and power made it possible for the provinces of Hyrule to begin winning battles against the might of the Orgoth empire.

Nobody had seen the race of nine-foot-tall barbarians since they were driven from Hyrule's shores, and today still people gave thanks to the Goddesses that they remained away. The old Hylian empire was fractured by their sudden invasion from somewhere across the treacherous Meridius ocean, and they had enslaved all the races that would someday form the kingdom of Hyrule for two hundred years. It took the inventions of gunpowder, the Cortex and the Colossals to even begin to put up an effective resistance against the Orgoth, but the victories didn't start coming in until the Warjacks were put together. Far smaller than a Colossal, they were equipped with the most modern weaponry, and able to follow retreating Orgoth forces through blasted and rocky terrain, tall mountains, and forests too thick for a larger machine to walk through without cutting a path for it first. When the forces of Hylia's people finally combined their might, they aptly named themselves the Army of Thunder, and with arm-mounted cannons and blades as tall as a man, they felled the Orgoth, keep after wretched keep. They finally pushed them back into the ocean, and if they had ever survived to tell about it, nobody knew.

With their retreat, the age of the Hylian Empire came to an end, with its capital and primary lands in ruin. New treaties were drawn up, and the Kingdom of Hyrule was founded, split into three Provinces: Lanayru, Eldin, and Faron, with Hyrule Castle being the primary seat of government, set to the south, on the border of Eldin and Lanayru provinces. The theory was that with a semblance of independence from the throne, but still sworn to it, each province would be easier to manage. Unfortunately, this wound up sitting well with few.

The Lanayrites quickly got full of themselves, blessed with the most fertile soil, the most rivers, and the best weather, not to mention the great city of Caspia that grew around Hyrule Castle. The Eldineans rapidly grew jealous of Lanayru's bountiful fields, themselves consigned to a dry and rocky terrain, no matter that they had the bulk of Hyrule's mineral wealth contained therein, and the Faronners' territory was mostly snowed-over all year, although it had far better hunting ground than either of the other provinces combined. The Faron and Eldin provinces quickly set up their own forms of government, while the Hyrulean High Council, who was once supposed to serve the whole kingdom, simply shifted to serve Lanayru instead. Add in that not one, but two lands on the border between Lanayru and Faron declared independence (which the King at the time was happy to grant and have a buffer zone between them and the land-hungry Faronners), and the mass migration of those with Hylian blood back to the old capital, and you had a kingdom at war with itself.

Link, Lord Commander of Lanayru's Third Army, however, had other concerns. As if the policing and peacekeeping of the province, the ongoing and often violent tensions with Eldin, and the fall of Llael (the smaller of the two kingdoms that had declared independence) to Faron aggression, the Third Army was tasked with defense against the rogue island "nation" of Cryx. In ancient times, the Scharde Isles had been a melting pot of the worst that the combined races of all Hyrule had to offer. The loose confederation of scum and villainy that was barely held together by a council of pirate kings was a prime target for takeover by Toruk the Dragonfather, and that was even before they also got their hands on Steamjacks or Necrotite; their longer-burning coal quenched with the souls of the dead.

An ancient, undead dragon, said to be as powerful as the Goddesses of old, perhaps even a rival of Hylia herself, one day perched at the island capital of Skell and took the entire nation in a day. Dragons were like that: old, terrible, huge, immortal, and virtually unstoppable. They were more forces of nature than living beings. That Toruk was the worst of them spoke as a testament to his power, as he was the one who created the rest of them. Ever since that day, the nation of Cryx was ruled by Toruk, who turned the original pirate kings into his Liches, and used them to interact with the world at large. They seemed to have three goals: first and foremost was to find and kill other dragons, but since they were all wisely in hiding from Toruk, the forces of Cryx focused on their other two pastimes, killing everyone they could easily get to and raising their dead bodies to graft freakish Mechanikal augmentations to, and strip-mining old battle sites for Necrotite.

Fortunately for the riverfront in Caspia, the foul-burning Necrotite was outlawed here. In fact, only the oldest and poorest-kept Warjacks still ran on coal. Most of them had switched to the miraculous Goronite, named for the massive, sturdy people who invented it, the Gorons. Gorons were basically walking, talking rocks, that ate rocks, and knew their way around the mining business like it was second nature. They had been a part of Hyrule's history since forever, along with the fishlike, water-dwelling Zora.

Goronite was an exceptionally pure metal, inscribed with ancient magic. It was forged in the heart of Death Mountain, an active volcano situated between the forested ruins of Link's home and the province of Eldin. It allowed the heat of the volcano to be magically stored in a medium that could be handled with bare hands, and in typical Goron fashion, you hit it with a hammer to release it. While in old days, a piece of Goronite was useful for a campfire if you couldn't collect any wood, now it was able to keep even the heaviest Warjacks running for days off a single piece. Its adaptation to more modern technology had caused a huge demand for it, and the Gorons had become exceedingly wealthy for being able to keep up with that demand.

The Zora had also contributed to Hyrule's Warjacks, with mystical Zora Shells. Again, they had been in use for a long time, providing travelers with an unending supply of water to drink. Now, they performed that function as a way to fuel the armies of the land as they clashed against each other, against the dangers of the wilds, and against the ever-present forces of Cryx.

But not today… Link thought, as he grabbed another roll and dunked it into the dregs of his soup. He was out of uniform, dressed in just trousers and a faded blue shirt. His hair was way out of regulation, owing to the fact that he was so thrown off his morning routine that he completely forgot to comb it. It had been a long time since he had a day off, although he certainly wouldn't have gone and traded good old King Raelthorn for it. He polished off the roll while he watched a giant, red steamship slowly come about to make anchor in the river. He glanced up at the cloudless, blue sky, and for a few precious moments, forgot there was a war going on as he closed his eyes, his feet kicked up onto the bannister.

It was not to be, though. The Lord Commander's long, Hylian ears did more than just frame his face, as he heard the rhythmic, heavy falls of hardened military boots on the cafe's floor. There were very, very few people who would come approach him here. While his troops loved him, each of his subordinates respected his love of peace and quiet, which meant that whoever was coming for him on his one day off in a number that he didn't particularly want to count outranked him. With the King's passing yesterday, that number was down to three people: one that wore powered combat armor wherever he went, one who was so well trained in stealth that not even Link could hear her footsteps, and one that wore cavalier's boots on his day off. Without even waiting to be addressed, Link stood up and snapped to attention, his momentary peace at an end, and the soldier within him once again in command. "General Mateau," he said crisply, as his left arm tucked into the small of his back, his right hand made a fist at chin-level, displaying the back of his hand to his commanding officer, and his own right boot stomped heel-first onto the balcony with a ***thump.***

"As you were, Lord Commander," the general growled. Mason Mateau had earned his nickname of The Black Lion, owing to his massive mess of raven hair that seamlessly merged with his equally long beard. Silver strands had steadily been sneaking their way in for years, but nobody would dare change his nickname. His uniform had passed the point of being regulation long ago, the Council figuring that if Hyrule's greatest warrior was going to sit with them, he should be able to wear whatever the hell he wanted. Currently, he was in a moss-green overcoat with a white dueling jacket and pants. His sword, pistol, and hat were all reminiscent of an old pirate.

Behind the Black Lion of Lanayru, who held the Seat of The Shield on the High Council, was Lady Impa, of the Sheikah. She wore an elegant gray dress, trimmed in white and red, with a traditional eye motif on a sash under her bust. The Sheikah were a clan that swore to protect the royal family of Hyrule when the treaties that ended the Orgoth war were signed. Once, they were the Idrians: a native people that originated from the far side of Eldin province, but when part of the culture swore fealty to Hyrule, it fractured the remainder. The people that still lived on the other side of the desert from Caspia called themselves the Gerudo, and they were some of Lanayru's deadliest enemies.

All the Sheikah were trained almost from birth to be lethal warriors of shadow and spell, and Impa was no different. Link had seen her fight, to devastating effect. There was little, in his mind, that would ever prevent that woman from fulfilling her duties as the head of Lanayru's network of informants. Being another person that outranked Link, she commanded just as much respect as Mateau did, which was saying quite a bit. A visit from her meant that national security was going to be a topic of conversation.

"You really love the soup here, don't you son?" Mateau inquired.

Link smiled as he relaxed a bit. As regimented as Lanayru's military was, its head was famously casual; at least, when you were on his good side. "Yes sir. Hylian cooking has fallen out of favor, but this place makes soup just like gran. What can I do for you, sir?"

Mateau gave a half-nod, "Well, for me, you can knock one back and take it easy for a day. Not often we lose a king. But as for our lady friend here, I think she has other plans for you."

"Good timing then. I was just going." He was lying his face off, but the fact was, Link was just no good at being civilian, so any excuse he could use to get back to work was a good thing. He dug into his pocket and produced five silver Woolworths, and set them on the table. This was far above and beyond what the tab was, but Link could afford it, and he liked this place. He considered the exorbitant tip to be his table reservation fee for the month.

Impa wordlessly turned and headed out the front of the restaurant, while Mason let Link go first, bringing up the rear. As the younger man took his second step, General Mateau clapped his hand on his shoulder. "Now, don't panic or anything, but, you're actually under arrest."


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

"General, this is by far the most casual arrest I have ever seen," said Link. The trio of Lanayru's most respected warriors rattled along the cobblestone path in a horse-drawn carriage. Heading into the city center from the docks, they were passing through a busy market district, and the bright colors, exotic food smells, and general clamor was out in force today. The crowd was certainly a bit more muted, but a national holiday meant everyone had a bit more time to shop, so merchants had their best goods on display. "Care to tell me what's really going on?"

General Mateau simply chucked a thumb over at Lady Impa seated next to him. "Her idea. I'm mostly along for formality."

Impa's steady gaze and burnished red eyes made Link a little nervous as she sized him up. He was still out of uniform, so he felt a bit more vulnerable than usual. Not that his crisp blue and gold outfit would have offered protection from such an appraisal. "Lord Commander Link, the Hyrulean High Council has need of you to undertake a mission of utmost importance. As you'll soon see, your arrest and subsequent discharge from the military will be essential to its completion."

"Discharge?"

"Temporary discharge," Mateau interjected. "Upon successful completion of

your mission, you will be formally cleared of all wrongdoing, and reinstated in your rank of Lord Commander. For now though, I need to know who you're going to pass leadership to, so that I can let them know what's going on. Also, if you have any last requests before the paperwork is filed, I'll see what I can do."

Link hunched forward in his seat, mind racing. He hated leaving his troops under command of anybody else. He was the type of commander to lead his army from the very tip of its spearpoint, not dictate any sort of marching orders from a tent. Eventually, he said "Laddermore."

"Derek Laddermore? The Duke's son?" Mateau questioned.

"That rooster-haired braggart? No, I meant Katherine Laddermore."

"His daughter? Are you serious?"

Link nodded, "No question about it. She's a capable leader, good tactician, and she has the respect of her fellow troops. She's a bit inexperienced because she hasn't been specifically groomed for this, but she's ready."

The Black Lion grimaced. "That's not going to fly well with the Duke."

"In addition," Link continued, "I'd actually like to transfer Derek Laddermore back to the Fourth Army." Mateau stared at him like he had just slapped a wild Gorax across the face. "I'd wash him out if I could. He's all ego, and false bravado and no common sense. If you put him in command of anybody, he's going to get them killed. His best bet is to get sent back to his father's army with his tail between his legs. Let the rest of the noble's sons mock him, maybe he'll learn some humility."

Nodding, the General was obviously considering it. "There's just one problem, kid. Katherine Laddermore isn't a Warcaster," he said, referring to the specialized commanders of nearly every army these days. While anybody could issue commands to any unlocked Steamjack or Warjack, a Warcaster was able to do so magically, and to multiple Warjacks at a time. It took both years of specialized training and a natural magical spark to become one, things that Derek Laddermore, and Link, had.

Link gestured with his hands, almost begging the General. "Exactly. And that's why I put in the request for Kraye." Jeremiah Kraye was one of Lanayru's Warcasters who wasn't typically assigned to any one unit, moving around to where he was needed. "Kraye and Laddermore are both from cavalry backgrounds, they'll get along well, and share tactics. Kraye handles the 'jacks, and Katherine handles everything else."

General Mateau looked out the window as the carriage arrived at its destination: the Lanayru Royal Academy. He took a deep breath, "Fine. I'll send Kraye out. If you make it back from whatever Lady Impa has planned for you, you're going to owe me for this." He stepped out and offered a hand to Impa, who gracefully took it and descended from the carriage herself.

Link came down himself, looking around. "Yes sir. The Academy?"

"Her plans kid, she's running the show here. Good luck, Link. Looking forward to having you back." The General saluted him, and he returned it. Instead of using the passenger compartment again, Mateau climbed up next to his driver, who flicked the reins, and they rattled off into the city.

Link met the ready gaze of Impa, who nodded her head towards the primary campus of the Royal Academy. She wasted no time in pleasantries, instead getting right down to business. "Two days before King Raelthorn's passing, we received a strange pair of guests to the Temple of Time. They said that it was urgent they speak to the King, the Sages, the military: anybody in a position that could help them. One of my informants alerted me to their presence, and I decided to hear them out."

Link considered this, and it was a bit strange. "What made you do that? The problems of two civilians should be pretty far below your pay grade, especially with the war on."

Impa nodded. "Normally you would be correct, I would have passed them off to the city guard to work their way up the red tape by themselves. They were, however, able to present proof of the serious nature of their plight. They told me two things. Firstly, that there is a threat to Lanayru's very existence. I say that because that's where my concern officially ends, but the fact is, it's more like a threat to the entire world."

Shaking his head in disbelief as they passed through the doors of the lofty, domed building, Link tried to come to grips with this. The building was empty for the holiday, and his steps echoed down the stone corridors. Impa's footsteps were still undetectable. "And you want me, one man, with no army behind him or official help from his country, to solve this?"

"Yes," the dark-skinned woman stated flatly. Then, a rare smile graced her lips as she lead Link down the hallway to one of the smaller lecture halls. "That was the second thing they told me. They asked for you by name. You're from Old Hylia, right? Surely you must be familiar with the Legend of the Hero Reborn."

He followed her silently. All the children of his people knew that legend. During times of great distress, the Goddess Hylia will send a hero clad in green to be her champion in the world. The hero will fight the good fight, using any means necessary to strike down evil wherever it lurks. The Army of Thunder was said to have been lead by such a hero when they drove out the Orgoth. To think that it was him though? He was a soldier, not a hero.

Link remembered Lecture Hall 4 from his time here at the Academy. It was a circular room, with tiered seats focusing down on a movable podium in the center. Opposite the doors they just came through were a pair of doors that a full-sized Warjack could walk through. This was where he learned the anatomy of various Warjacks in use by all the provinces, both so he could understand how Lanayru's worked, and so that he could strike at the right places to disable the enemy's.

Today, in place of the podium, there was a round, wooden table, with four chairs around it. Two of them were occupied. Sitting in the one directly across from the doorway was a man dressed in a tight-fitting tunic, emblazoned with the same eye of the Sheikah that Impa wore on her dress. His arms were wrapped with binding so that not even his tight clothing hindered his movements in the slightest, and that there was nothing for an opponent to grab on to. He wore a wrap around his face, and a turban on his head. Only a shock of blond hair stuck out from beneath it, and the only part of his actual face that was showing was a single, burnished-red eye.

The other occupied seat held a young woman, unlike any Link had seen. First of all, her hair was bright blue, and tied up into a topknot, but then allowed to spill back down behind her head. Next to her hair, she wore an elaborate, feathered hairpiece. Her arms were covered in billowing, white sleeves, that were not attached to the blue half-shirt she wore about her chest, exposing her midriff. She also had a short, frilled white dress, high white leggings that also were not attached to her dress, and a white quarter-cape that covered her left side. Wherever these two were from, it must be a place that offered an extra hour to get dressed in the morning.

Impa announced their arrival, and made the introductions. "Lady Lana, Sir Sheik, this is Lord Commander Link of Old Hylia."

Lana immediately locked eyes with Link, and he could see as he approached that hers were a deep purple, that almost gave off their own light. He fought a losing battle to keep the hair on the back of his neck from standing up. She was cute, but she was also obviously a sorceress, and that always meant trouble. "Link, welcome," she said. "Please, have a seat."

Dutifully, he pulled out a chair for Impa, who sat as a matter of course, and then he took the remaining chair. "Good afternoon," he said politely, still distracted by this whole 'hero reborn' business, as well as feeling extremely underdressed, still just being in his simple blue shirt and trousers.

Sheik, as he was called, wordlessly eyed him up and down, then turned to Lana before speaking. From the sound of his voice, he must have been younger even than Link. "Lana, is he the one?"

Lana reached out with her right hand and touched his left. It felt like a misty autumn morning as her magic reached out and sized him up. Whatever imperceptible property she was looking for, she seemed very satisfied. She smiled and breathed a sigh of relief. "Yes. Yes, Link, you're the one we've been looking for. You carry the spirit of the hero reborn."

As if to distract Lana from holding Link's hand, which seemed to go on for a little longer than was necessary, Impa spoke up, "Lana, tell the Lord Commander what you told me."

Shocked out of her momentary lapse, she withdrew her hand quickly. "Oh, of course. Actually, I can do better than that, I'll show you a bit about what's going on." Reaching into her quarter-cloak, she produced from somewhere a cloudy purple crystal ball, three quarters the size of her head. Setting it in the center of the table, which Link promptly took his hands away from, she closed her eyes and held her hands above it.

The room, which had been lit by the large windows, darkened as though an unnatural shadow had eclipsed the sun. Then, in the air in the middle of the room, a beautiful, colorful, slowly spinning ball of light appeared, and expanded to fill the entire space between the tiered seating. The center of the glowing orb contained a bright yellow light, not unlike a tiny sun, about the size of a marble, and light blue lines branched outward from it, often in spirals. There were smaller lights along those lines, too. Every time a line split, converged, or changed directions was highlighted by either a light blue or yellow dot.

"I should start by telling you a bit about what I do," said Lana, standing up from the table. "I am a sorceress. I have been alive since the Goddess Hylia walked among us. It was she who tasked me with my eternal duty: to watch over, and maintain the balance of the Triforce, the holy relic that Din, Farore, and Nayru left behind when they parted the world."

Suspending his disbelief that such a young girl was that fantastically old and powerful, Link followed along. "I'm familiar with the legends. They say that anybody who gathers the three golden triangles of the Triforce can call upon the gods and have any wish granted."

"Very good," she said, sounding like a teacher. "What you have to understand, however, is that I watch over the Triforce in all its different time lines." She gestured to the light show floating over their heads. "This is what you could call a map of every Hyrule that ever was, and every Hyrule that will be. Each of these lines is thousands of years in the making, starting from Din, Farore, and Nayru creating Hyrule in the center, to far in the future at the edge of the sphere."

Even Impa was impressed. "There's so many…" She trailed off, lost in some thought that she wasn't quite ready to share.

"There are. Here, this is your timeline, where we are right now." The oddly-dressed sorceress pointed up at one single line, no longer than her little finger, that lit up green.

Link swallowed nervously. Something about having your entire world reduced to a single dot on a map could put your problems in a very awkward perspective. He tried to steer the conversation away from how tiny and insignificant this all felt now. "Impa said that there was a threat to the world. Why are you showing us this?"

"Right, this is where it might get a bit confusing, so please bear with me. I say that I am the Guardian of the Triforce, but that's only half correct. In reality, who you see before you is only part of a whole." Looking at Impa's and Link's confused reactions, she tried to put what happened to her into words. "Not too long ago, I fell under some sort of influence. I don't know where it came from, or how it was able to place me under its sway, but I fought it as best I could. In the end, it took anything that it could from me. All my negative thoughts and aspects, from sadness, loneliness and pain to jealousy and anger. And since I would not let it have my body, it created its own. Her name is Cia, and she is the threat to your world that Impa mentioned. In reality, though, it's much bigger than that."

Lana gestured up towards her timeline map, and it changed. Starting from about a quarter-way from the center to about halfway from the edge of the sphere, where there were numerous blue lines, the lines thinned out and turned red. Where once there were many branching paths, there were now only a few straight lines, until the red line hit a yellow speck of light, then the blue lines began again. "These red lines represent the multiple Hyrules that Cia already has control over. Whatever freedom the people had to choose their own destinies has been lost, unless we can defeat her."

Link shook his head. Knowing a thing or two about war, the logistics of what Lana was suggesting didn't work out. "There's no way she could have taken over one world by herself, let alone that many. Right?"

Lana nodded. "It's true. Many of these battles are ongoing, or have even just begun. It's only because we are farther along down the timeline that we are able to see the results of her actions if we don't interfere."

"You're right about another thing too," Sheik interrupted. "Cia is not acting alone. She has the help of someone like you, who carries in him the spirit of the reborn hero, as well as a few loyal lieutenants, and an army of monsters from all throughout history. Beyond being a powerful sorceress in her own right, she's a canny tactician, and a dangerous adversary."

"Hold on though," Impa said, shaking her head. "If Cia was able to conquer our world in the past, how are we still here?" Sure enough, tracing the green line they were currently in back towards the center, it went through a few blue dots, reached a yellow one, and turned red.

Lana smiled, a confident, beaming thing. "That's why I came here. See, the blue dots on the map represent history-altering decisions, that when made one way or the other, alter the course of the whole world. When Cia enslaves the people of one Hyrule or another, these choices are no longer able to be made. The yellow dots though, they represent the times when the Triforce is used. These times will come about, no matter what. Fate will conspire to bring the Triforce together, and the same things will always happen. Unless, of course, Cia herself is able to gather the Triforce from any time. So, I sent some of our allies that you haven't met yet to gather at least one piece of the Triforce from each of the realms that Cia had invaded…" As she spoke, small green dots appeared on each red line. "...and then sent them beyond what I call these Triforce Gates with them." The green dots created green dotted lines behind them as they moved outward from their timeline, over, under, or around a yellow dot, and then back onto a blue section behind it. "Our objectives are all the same. Make contact with the Hero Reborn of each era, and persuade him to gather the Triforce in his time. Then, we come back with an army, and using the Triforce's power, we seal Cia back away, and send her army packing."

At this, Sheik held up the backside of his right fist, reminding Link of his country of Lanayru's salute. Faintly, the outline of the Triforce appeared in white light, with the lower-left triangle shining a golden yellow. "This is the Triforce of Wisdom. We acquired it just before Cia took over the Hyrule where Lana and I are from. While no timeline is any more important than another, we are calling this the Prime Hyrule for convenience. Cia already has the Prime Hyrule's Triforces of Power and Courage." The symbol faded as he rested his hand back on the table. "We won't be able to substitute the Triforce I have for the Triforce of Wisdom from this era, but that's a blessing in disguise. That also means that Cia can't use a piece of the Triforce from the wrong time as a substitute as well."

"And if we fail? If Cia does acquire the Triforce?" Impa asked, as though she needed to. Lana didn't need to explain anything. She simply looked up at the floating lights. One by one, the yellow Triforce Gates winked out, and the blue lines beyond them snapped into place along the nearest attached red line. Finally, once all the blue line had been removed, a single yellow dot appeared, and all the red lines fused into one.

"As you can see," Lana answered, "this is much bigger than the Hyrule that you know. All of them are at stake." She turned and looked at Link expectantly, as her magical light show faded, and the room's natural lighting returned. Impa, as well, turned her gaze towards the Lord Commander, and Sheik had hardly turned his single eye away from him this entire time.

Nervously, Link ran a hand through his messy hair. "Well, what's the plan?"


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

 _Prime Hyrule: The Palace of Souls_

"And to think," said Agahnim, "I almost felt sorry for the boy." The dishes rattled on the food cart as it rolled down the stone corridor, despite the luxurious red carpet on top of it. Paradise for gourmets must have smelled something like this wheeled contraption. It was loaded to the point of groaning with delicacies from more than one Hyrule. Everything from Lon Lon Beef Wellington with Lost Woods mushroom duxelles, to piping hot Reekfish stew, to wild Zora River salmon steak over risotto with Makuberry vinaigrette, to fresh-baked Skyloft pumpkin bread with Ordon goat butter. Hyoi pear cobbler with maple syrup drizzle was for dessert, and two whole carafes of Romani Select sweet cream milk stood at the ready to wash it all down.

A ghostly servant called a Poe carefully pushed the cart down the hall, its entire floating body appearing as though it was covered in a milky white sheet, with only two bright green eyes peering out at the world from a dark opening where its face would be. Following the Poe were two figures, who could not have looked more different. The first was the priestly Agahnim, former servant of Ganon, and recent recruit of Cia, dressed in flowing, pale yellow and green robes.

The second, who made quite a bit more noise coming down the hallway in his bright red and silver plate mail was Volga the Dragon Knight. He walked using his spear, Stonecleaver's Claw, as a walking stick, and held his horned silver helmet under his other arm, exposing his platinum hair and black facial tattoos, as well as his orange eyes with slitted pupils. He scoffed, "You're just lucky he's eating now. The first couple nights, he didn't even do that. Cia threatened to have my head each time I told her about it." He glanced over at the meal cart. "Of course, it's only recently that the food was this good."

Agahnim glanced sidelong at him. "Cia would never feed her darling little pet the same gruel that the common prisoners eat."

"No, but it was simpler fare. It wasn't until after she took him on his little field trip that he really found his appetite."

Volga remembered that battle well, he was acting as Cia's personal bodyguard throughout it, just in case this Link kid found a way out of his shackles and back in the saddle as an enemy to be dealt with. Despite his young age and obvious lack of experience as a professional soldier, he had been a proverbial pain in Volga's nethers since he appeared; and now, Cia was looking to make him a literal pain in hers.

The instructions to the rest of the army were clear: drive Zelda's army to the brink of the Valley of Seers, and corner them there, but do not kill them. Instead, Cia knew that Lana, her other half, would be able to spirit them away. Volga openly questioned the wisdom behind this tactic, as it could give them a way to rally again, despite the many, sequential losses their army had faced.

It wasn't until the battle was handily won that Volga saw the method behind Cia's madness. The entire fight was orchestrated by Cia specifically for Link to see it. Armies marched for miles and miles, the war drums were beat, men and women and monsters spilled their blood and gave their lives merely as spectacle for just one boy. Cia was clearly out of her mind to do this, but the Goddesses knew that it worked.

Link had fallen prey to one of Cia's traps while he was way too far out in front of his armies. The power of the Master Sword had made him overconfident to the point where he was taking risks like this left and right. When Cia exploited this, she forced Zelda to make a decision: she could make the hasty choice now and order her most elite troops to sacrifice their position and their battle strategy for one man, or hold the line and try to secure victory against Cia's army before attempting a rescue. The princess decided to err on the side of caution, leaving her army to push against Cia's magically reinforced forces and Link to battle his own shadows for nearly an hour.

The battle looked like it was going to stretch into an extended campaign when Ganondorf showed up. The Legendary Evil himself, who had supposedly been sealed away for ages, blindsided the Hyrulean army with one of his own. Chaos broke out in their ranks, and they were scattered into a full retreat within minutes, their hopes of victory, and of rescuing their comrade, dashed.

Of course, Ganondorf was there for the Triforce. All three pieces were there in close proximity, with Link holding the Triforce of Courage, Zelda with the Triforce of Wisdom, and Cia holding the Triforce of Power. Obviously he was intending to sweep all three. Cia was far smarter than that though. As Ganondorf was bearing down on Zelda, Cia released the exhausted, bedraggled Link to fight him. Together, although just barely, Zelda and Link were able to defeat the King of Evil. As Cia's army swept around them like a tidal wave, Link collapsed from exhaustion, and Zelda was forced to flee.

For days after the battle, Cia kept Link a prisoner in a luxurious, pampered room in her palace. Believing his comrades dead, he refused to eat, attempting to starve himself to death, just to spite his captors. That's when Cia arranged for Link to join them on the field of the next battle.

He didn't need to see his allies die in front of him. What he needed to see is exactly what Cia gave him: they were alive and well, but they had abandoned him. Just as planned, Lana opened portals to other Hyrules to escape, and Cia made absolutely certain that Link saw that very moment. When he did, Volga could tell, something broke inside him. That night, back at the palace, he ate voraciously, and Volga could only wonder if he was simply that hungry from starving himself for the last three days, or if he was trying to fill some other form of emptiness within him.

Agahnim took the keys out from his robe and handed them to the Poe, who used it to unlock the door to Link's palatial prison cell. As the heavy oaken door swung out, the wonderful smell of food mixed with the rich smoke of incense. The room was easily the most opulent prison that Volga had ever set foot into, with colorful, plush pillows, blankets of silk and wool for summer and winter, a roaring fireplace, and every piece of furniture was stained mahogany bedecked in gold. It was clear to Volga that Link was not Cia's prisoner, but her prize.

Wordlessly, the blond boy turned to face them from his chair that he had moved to the window. Volga thought that he must hardly leave that seat, as it was the only place he had seen him sit since the chains came off. Gone was the warrior dressed in green, who had thwarted Volga multiple times now. Dressed in simple brown trousers and a purple silk shirt, his movements weren't even a warrior's anymore, as he lackadaisically shuffled over to the food cart and tasted the Makuberry vinaigrette with his finger. The Poe gathered a few used dishes from around the room and put them on the food cart that had been wheeled there in the morning, and wheeled it out the door, followed by Agahnim. Shaking his head, disappointed at losing a worthy opponent to test his own mettle against, Volga followed suit, leaving Link to his nightly feast.

"Pathetic," Volga growled through clenched teeth.

"Isn't it? The kid was such a rallying force for their whole army, and now… Nothing. I'm just glad we're not on guard duty for him anymore," the courtly wizard stated matter-of-factly.

The dragon knight raised a platinum eyebrow. "I hadn't heard that. Why the change?"

"That's right," Agahnim snapped his fingers as he remembered, "you were at drill during the meeting this morning. We're being deployed tomorrow."

"Deployed? Where? Zelda's army is scattered, Lana and her allies have fled, it will be weeks until remnants and resistances can organize anything that demands the attention of our forces."

"Cia gave us all our assignments separately. I can't speak for any of the others, but she's sending me to track down a few of Lana's new allies; I'm going to follow the bird girl and the imp through a portal in the morning."

"Really? I didn't expect that she'd split us up to chase down all the loose ends. They must be more of a problem than she initially thought."

The trio reached the main staircase of the Palace of Souls. It was a massive room with sweeping columns merging into the cathedral ceiling, and a stone-wrought grand staircase leading straight from the main entrance to the second floor, where it split and went up the walls, wrapping around to the third story, where they were now. Orange twilight shone through the three-meter windows, bathing the entire room in a soft, amber glow. Across the hall, another Poe was lighting torches with ghostly fire, preparing for sundown. The Poe following Volga and Agahnim stopped short of the staircase, and slid back a wooden panel in the side of the wall, revealing a dumbwaiter. It loaded the dirty dishes onto it somewhat noisily, not particularly reverent of the quiet of the room.

Agahnim stretched his arms out and yawned. "I think I'm going to turn in early, enjoy sleeping in a comfortable bed while I still have one. Who knows what sort of place the Hyrule that Cia sends me to is going to be?" He turned at the staircase, taking the balcony around to the other side. "You should probably talk to Cia before doing the same, she'll want to give you your assignment."

Volga nodded silently, and took a moment to place his silver, horned helmet on his head. Two bright green jewels and a steel ridge made it look like a horned dragon, and a long tuft of bright red hair streamed out the back. Satisfied, he hefted his Stonecleaver's Claw up onto his shoulder, and strode down the long staircase to the second floor, and opened up half of the large double doors that lead into the throne room.

Volga thought that this room was easily the only room in the castle more ornately decorated than Link's 'prison,' although he had never been to Cia's private quarters, so he couldn't be sure. Great, diamond-shaped banners, dyed deep purple, graced every stone wall in the long room, and strands of pink-tinted glass crystals tinkled like wind chimes as they crisscrossed the rafters. Cia had the throne replaced with an enormous, gilded and padded basket that looked like it could slide back and be slept in like a sort of nest.

Easily the most eye-catching piece of decoration was the extremely lifelike statue of Ganondorf placed squarely in the way of anybody entering the room. Its back was to the door, and it was crouched down on one knee, head bowed low. Through his chest, with the tip pointing out his back, was an exact replica of the Master Sword. Of course, Volga knew the truth, even if Cia didn't want any of the layfolk to know. That was the Master Sword, and it was plunged through the chest of the Ganondorf, who had turned to stone rather than perishing like a mortal. Apparently being the King of Evil had its benefits. Cia took a particular shine to his eternally kneeling fate, and had him brought to her throne room. Most likely, being half of an immortal sorceress, this was the safest place he could ever be left.

Cia herself sat in front of the dragon knight as he climbed the low and wide steps towards her peculiar throne. She was not using the basket-like chair, rather she was floating in mid-air. Her legs were crossed and her eyes were closed. Unlike the half of her that was often across the battle lines from Volga, Cia wore a very immodest black dress, accentuating every asset she owned to use to her advantage. Also, as a counter to Lana's pale skin, hers had a bronze tone, and her hair was icey white. The resemblances between the two, other than those, was quite uncanny.

The temptation for Volga to impale her through the stomach and pin her lifeless body to the floor ran quite casually through his head. He swore that he would end her miserable life someday for what she had done to him. She had strode into his domain, massacred his troops with an army of skeletons, and freed and employed a cursed relic under his guard, all in an afternoon like she had canceled her tea time to do it. The worst part was that she used her black sorcery to enthrall Volga's mind. He lost all sense of free will. His freedom, his honor, his sense of self, trode on like a damned welcome mat. During the long campaign against Zelda, he had slowly regained control, but it took weeks of pushing his own mental discipline to the limit during every moment off the battlefield.

He wasn't entirely free, either. While his thoughts and actions were once again his own, the moment his murderous impulse reared its head upon seeing Cia, she smiled condescendingly and opened her eyes. "Dear Volga," she crooned, her amused voice sickly sweet and oozing sexuality, "what can I do for my mighty Dragon Knight?"

It was obvious that he wouldn't be able to kill her. Yet. Not while she could still read his every thought like a book. "Agahnim said that we were being deployed in the morning. Curiously, you had me drilling your troops during that particular meeting," Volga said, a hint of accusation in his voice.

"Of course I did," Cia replied, unflappable as ever. "There was no reason to cause jealousy of you among the other commanders." She unfolded her long legs from where she was levitating, and slowly walked down the stairs to meet Volga half way. She reached out to him and ran a long, purple-painted fingernail horizontally across his chestplate. Even a step higher than him, she was looking up to meet his gaze. "Although I think some of them may suspect who my favorite is."

Volga knew manipulation when he saw it. Stoically, swallowing his pride as he did every time he talked to her, he asked "What is it that I can do for you… Mistress?"

This elicited a long, low giggle from Cia, as she walked past him, turning her back to him. Volga knew she could feel the insult that this cast his way. "Out of all the commanders of my army, you alone are the most dependable. The troops follow your orders without question or hesitation. Easily, you are the most capable warrior in single combat as well. Even one of our newest additions, Onox, can't keep up with you. And that is why it is you, Volga, who will be tasked with tracking down and killing Lana."

Volga turned, following Cia down the throne room's steps. "Isn't Zelda a more crucial threat? She possesses the Triforce of Wisdom."

"In the long term, perhaps. But only if we're unable to take Lana out of the picture." Cia gestured in midair, still not turning around to face the steel-clad warrior. "If we remove their ability to travel across time lines, and jump around from Hyrule to Hyrule, it becomes a simple matter of chasing a single Triforce bearer down at our leisure. We can pour our full strength into taking a single world instead of splitting our forces up like this. You will be following Lana, and that meddlesome Sheikah with the harp.

"You're going to get your pick of one legion of troops in the morning, Volga. Take the one you trust the most. Each commander is going to be tailing two enemies with a small force. You will be in total control in an unfamiliar Hyrule. All decisions are left up to your discretion. I would recommend fortifying a position and finding allies, but be cautious. You won't be receiving reinforcements from here."

"One legion against the world, Mistress Cia?" Volga asked.

"Yes. I knew you would like those odds."

Volga smiled. Despite his hatred of the woman who had enslaved him, he had to admit that she understood him well. "You're right. I do like those odds."

 _Author's Notes: Because i'm hardcore addicted to explaining crap.  
So you know that Volga will be joining Lana and Cia in the Warmachine mashup universe that I've put together, and Aghanim revealed that he is chasing down a teamup of Midna and Medli. I went ahead and included a chart of assignments for the rest of the Expanded Team Bad Guys for your imagination pleasure. Why? Mainly because I'm garbage.  
Aghanim: Midna / Medli  
Girahim: Tetra / Toon Zelda  
Majora: Toon Link / King Daphnes  
Onox: Impa / Young Link  
Veran: Marin / Daruina  
Volga: Lana / Sheik  
Wizzro: Agitha / Fi  
Zant: Ruto / Linkle  
Cia and Vaati are managing Prime Hyrule.  
Bellum, Nightmare, and Malladus are not included because they would be difficult to implement in the Hyrule Warriors game (i.e. No really 'humanoid' form of their own).  
Yuga is not included because of my great shame of not playing Link Between Worlds yet.  
Tingle is not included because fuck that creepy gnome._


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

The man staring back at him from the mirror did little to remind Link of himself. Gone was the crisp blue, white, and yellow uniform. In its place were some of the least comfortable travelling clothes he had the displeasure of wearing. His pants, thank goodness, were the hardy army-issued cotton breeches, tucked into a pair of new leather boots. Those weren't too bad, they just needed to be broken in. It was the tunic that bothered him.

He understood that he was going to be visiting a lot of varied climates, and that a leather tunic would be much warmer in Faron than his typical cotton jacket, but his complaints that it would be much warmer in Eldin too seemed to fall on deaf ears. He also wasn't a fan of the forest green color that he would be sporting. After years of dressing in blue, it felt uncomfortable to see any other color on him. After Lana produced the rough green tunic, he objected, but was overruled by Impa. Not only was it the color of the Hero of Legend, but he was to travel in secret. He needed a change of identity. Wearing Lanayru Blue was out of the question.

Shaking his head, he strapped on the rest of his gear. A bandolier around his chest and clipped to his belt balanced everything properly. Fixed to the front of the leather strap was his custom, five-chambered Magelock pistol; a masterfully crafted firearm with solid clockwork mechanisms and softly glowing gold runes. On the front of his belt, he carried plenty of spare ammunition for it. Below the pistol, on the bandolier itself, he carried his enspelled bullets, which could deliver powerful magic upon impact. Hanging off the back of his bandolier was a sturdy, steel buckler. Until yesterday, it was emblazoned with Lanayru's emblem of a long-tailed blue bird on top of a hexagonal diamond shape. Now, the paint had been scraped off, leaving bare steel with leather backing. Dings and pits and scratches already covered its surface, and it had been patched in multiple places. It had been with Link since he graduated from Lanayru Academy.

Finally, held in a simple leather scabbard tucked neatly under the buckler, was a brand-new weapon. Lanayru had long outpaced Eldin and Faron in the use of electricity, and had been incorporating it into their weapons for decades. This new toy wasn't anywhere near as powerful as a two-handed Stormblade, but it didn't look like one either. A miniaturized lightning coil was concealed in the hollow cross piece, and a built-in Arcanodynamic Accumulator in the hilt provided a nasty shock on contact with the blade. Unlike the Stormblades, this Stormsabre was a covert piece, with a hidden pressure switch near the cross piece to send electricity crackling through the finely-crafted weapon. Until that switch was pressed, however, the Stormsabre was a simple, thin blade, suited to dueling and thrusting through weak spots in enemy armor.

Giving a final tug on the thick leather tunic, Link grabbed the final piece of his new travelling clothes: a long, green cap. It was his suggestion, actually. The cap was a traditional Old Hylian piece. It was lightweight, it would keep the hair out of his eyes, leave his long ears uncovered, and had nothing to catch in the wind to blow away. Furthermore, it would do more to distance himself from Lanayru Province.

He slung a heavy leather pack over his shoulder, full of some indispensable supplies and a couple of personal effects. Casting his gaze around his small apartment near the barracks, he made sure everything was in perfect order. It was an admittedly guilty ritual of his, but he had come into the habit of it over the years. The night before he left Caspia, he would give his living quarters a thorough cleaning and sorting; that way if he came home, he would come home to a comfortable house. And, of course, if he didn't come home, it wouldn't be a burden on the small team of privates who would clear out his belongings and prepare the place for the next Lord Commander of Lanayru.

Satisfied that there was nothing else left for him to do, he opened the door to the hallway. He was early, so his escort wasn't there yet. Reaching back into his room, he shut the gas to the wall-mounted light off, and used a small handkerchief he kept on a table for this very reason to pull the glass off the lamp. He screwed as small, metal cap onto the spigot so that gas wouldn't fill up his room while he was away, even if the valve failed. No use in surviving a harrowing secret ordeal only to be blown up when he switched his lights on next.

"Finished?"

The voice caused Link to nearly leap out of his boots, his left hand instinctively reached up to his sword's hilt. Before him, stood the young man Sheik, whom he had met yesterday. He was still dressed in his foreign garb, with only a single eye peering out at Link between the scarf and turban. "Glad to see you're so… alert… in the mornings."

Link dropped his hand, embarrassed. "Sorry. Lady Impa usually waits downstairs when she has need of me. You're just as quiet as she is."

"I take that compliment in high regard then. Here, stand up straight, right arm out," Sheik said, businesslike.

Bewildered, Link complied. Sheik walked to his side, and turned to face the same direction as him. Pressing his left shoulder into Link's right, he stretched his left arm out in the same manner as the Lord Commander, paying close attention to their respective sleeve lengths, waist height, and frame build. They were nearly the same height, and had about the same length of legs and arms. Sheik cut a slimmer profile, but they were very close to the same size. "Good," he said. "I'm not going to be sitting on my laurels while you're out there. I have a lead of my own that I'll be following up on that should turn up the Triforce of Wisdom, if I'm lucky. It looks like some of the clothes that you're not using would fit me, provided you have a belt to spare. Would you terribly mind me borrowing them?"

"Er, no," the Hylian replied, "go right ahead." He fished in his pocket for a small, iron key. "Actually, you and Lana don't have a place to stay yet permanently, do you?" Sheik shook his head. "Well, it's not much, but you two are welcome to stay here. On my way out, I'll have the landlady send a spare mattress up."

"Don't bother with that step, Link, I'm leaving town as soon as I get changed. I'll pass the key along to Lana, I'm sure she'll be grateful. Before you go, though, I did have one final thing you could help me with," Sheik said as he accepted Link's apartment key. "I need the name and location of the most trustworthy bunch of mercenaries you know of. A group that you would consider responsible enough to handle matters of national security with dignity and discretion."

Link considered this for a moment. "Hmm, normally I would refer you to the Devil Dogs, they're a real stand-up bunch, but they moved their headquarters to Five Fingers to be closer to the front lines and get more contracts. You'll need to talk to a man named Petri Karakov. He's a Farronner, but he's as good of a man as they come, he runs a small company called Deku's Might, on the corner of Fellig Street and Thorn Way, up in the northwest part of the city. He owes me a lot of favors, so if he gets tough on negotiations, tell him I'm willing to wipe the slate clean if he does a good job."

Sheik nodded. "Alright, I'll be in contact with them immediately. Your escort is downstairs. Thank you for doing all of this. May the Goddess smile upon you."

"Upon all of us." Link answered. "Good luck." With that, he turned away, just barely hearing Sheik slip the key into his apartment door, and clomped down the wooden staircase in his unfamiliar leather boots.

The landlady was out getting groceries at this time of day, so he left a short note on the pad by the front desk, explaining that his friend Lana was going to be borrowing his room for an undetermined amount of time. His rent was paid directly by the Lanayru Military Administration, so he didn't need to worry about that. Lady Impa would make sure that Lana was comfortable as far as food and supplies went as well.

Outside, an unmarked carriage waited for him, the driver a face he had never seen before. He drove through a back alley that Link himself often walked on his way to the Lanayru High Command building, which was their destination. Instead of stopping at the front gates, they wheeled around to the rear of the walled compound, and were waved through the delivery gate.

Beyond the walls were sights that most civilians only saw in pictures. Soldiers drilling, assistants and messengers scrambling to deliver communication from officer to officer, and row upon row of hulking Warjacks, being maintained, rebuilt, or recycled. These were the simple cases. An otherwise-fine Warjack that had its arm ripped off at the wrist could simply get a replacement at the elbow joint, or shoulder joint if there was internal damage. The unusable pieces were sent to recycling to get stripped of paint and then smelted down, and the Warjack went back to the front lines.

The carriage rattled past these field repairs, and in through a wide hangar bay door. Inside were the cases of Warjacks that couldn't just be refitted and sent packing. These were the chassis rebuilds, the furnace repairs, and the ever-delicate cortex replacements. Metal bits, gears, pistons, levers, scrap armor plating and brand new gleaming weapons were strewn everywhere, to the point where navigating between the bays sometimes was more like an obstacle course. Link knew where to go from here, as the horse had no more room to take the carriage. He exited, thanking the driver, and made his way to the personal maintenance bay of the third person in Lanayru that outranked him: Artificer General Sebastian Nemo.

Mechanics and assistants alike gave Link some very askew glances in his forest green attire, but ultimately said nothing as he picked his path carefully through the barely-controlled chaos. Arriving on the opposite side of the room, he clambered up a ladder onto a small balcony, and opened a heavy steel door into Nemo's workshop. It was a much smaller, quieter, and tidier affair than the main floor, but other than those differences it was nearly identical. It was populated by a single man, the one person responsible for Lanayru's military power more than anybody else. Link may have been a hero to the people, but he had a very long way to go before his legend measured up to the Artificer General's.

Nemo stood just a little shorter than Link outside of his power armor, but the point was moot, because he was rarely seen without it. In it, they were about the same height. The blue and gold painted metal of it reflected the bright blue glow of Nemo's twin Arcanodynamic Accumulators. At the moment, the six Lightning Coils were retracted into the armor itself, but Link had seen them in terrifying action, and was always glad that Nemo didn't have much of a temper.

"Ah, young Link, please, come over," said Nemo, his goggled head turning towards the opening door for only a brief moment before he went back to working on the mostly-assembled Warjack arm in front of him. The rest of the 'jack was covered in a billowing white sheet. As he turned back to his project, a piercing blue light issued from the miniature welder in his hands, lighting his wrinkled face and static-induced white hair in an unearthly glow. At nearly triple Link's age, Nemo was still a formidable man.

Link did himself the favor of grabbing a spare set of welding goggles from a rack near the door, slipped them on, pinning the back of his new hood to his head, and walked down a small, spiral staircase.

"How's the weight on that sword, son? Well-balanced for you?" Nemo asked without looking up.

"Yes sir, swings like a dream."

"Good, good. Listen, Mateau and Impa filled me in a little bit on the plan, and what they needed from me, but they didn't really tell me what you were actually going to be doing out there. Let me hear what the whole point of this exercise is, in your own words."

Link knew the Artificer General was great at multitasking, so he didn't bother waiting for him to look up from his work. "Well, I'm off to take the Trials, under an assumed identity of Eldon of Old Hylia."

"The trials?" The old man asked. "They still do those?"

"No, actually. Nobody has attempted them for two hundred years." It was true. Lanayru, Faron, and Eldin each had a ceremony that they called a Trial. They were a throwback to long ago, far before the Orgoth invasion, when the Hylian Empire was still the governing body of the land. It was said that anybody who wished to be recognized as a hero throughout the whole empire had to complete the trials of Courage, Power, and Wisdom, in order to prove themselves worthy of the title. These Trials were not named this way because it sounded appealing, they were directly named after the three pieces of the sacred Triforce. Supposedly, a clue, or a key to that golden power was the prize for victory in all three trials.

For a long time after the Orgoth War, people had tried constantly to best the Trials, one after another, each of them wanting the wish-granting power of the Triforce as much as the last. That continued for the first few decades of the first century of the Kingdom of Hyrule. Some would win one, a few would win two, and even one or two actually won all three. Those that did win, however, mysteriously disappeared, never to be heard from again. After the steady stream of contestants slowed to a trickle, representatives from all three provinces declared that the Trials would be held annually, as a peaceful contest between them, a way to set aside differences and compete in the spirit of cooperation. That worked for a while, but then politics happened. The yearly event became once every five years. Then every ten. Then, it was simply stopped. Everybody was too focused on fighting each other to care.

Nemo looked up at Link and raised a quizzical eyebrow. "Do you think the other provinces will even let you?"

"That's the reason for the fake identity, and the 'arrest' of Link of Old Hylia. Other countries might not be so keen to allow a military officer of an enemy province to even cross their borders, let alone into their capital, but a lone Hylian that nobody has ever heard of shows up and asks to take the Trials, well, if any of the priests or priestesses of Din and Farore want to respect the old ways of doing things, they'll be honor bound to let me try my hand."

Grimacing, Nemo nodded his head in understanding. "And what priest would want to be caught disrespecting the old ways, I get it. Pass me that wrench." He peered into the opened arm of the Warjack he was working on, as Link handed him an adjustable wrench that could easily fit a man's forearm between its teeth. Apparently satisfied with his handiwork, he closed the armor plating around the arm, and began tightening up the bolt holding the armor in place. "The journey is going to be rough. Either you take the train and deal with the hooligans, or you go on foot and take your chances in the wilderness. The way I figure it, you're going to need a partner to watch your back, someone who you can trust implicitly, and who can do a lot of heavy lifting for you. Stand back, son."

He put the wrench down onto a wheeled, metal cart, and rolled it over to the far wall, where his staff was resting against a workbench. He picked up the complicated, silver machine in his right hand, and used his left to plug two separate cords into the right gauntlet of his power armor. The twin Accumulators on his back spun to life quite silently for such powerful machines, as they rebalanced the power load between his armor and his tool of choice. The staff, beyond being a potent weapon, also acted as a "master key" of sorts for Lanayru's army of Warjacks. He could seize control of any of them at a moment's notice, if he needed to. Nemo muttered a phrase in ancient Hylian, disengaging the Cortex lock that kept the Warjack from obeying commands from anybody who wasn't authorized.

Keeping his staff with him, he walked up to the thirteen-foot shrouded figure's backside, opened a small panel, and pumped a lever three times. A rattling started from within the Warjack's armored torso, the telltale sign of a Goronite engine coming to life. Soon enough, the rattle evolved into a faster-paced putter as the springs Nemo had wound with the lever unwound into the starting apparatus. The sheet began to move on its own, as steam began to ease its way out of the smokestacks.

An electric blue pair of eyes began to glow under the sheet, and Link immediately felt a familiar, mechanickal presence in his mind. When a Warcaster like he or Nemo established a magical connection with the Cortex of a Warjack, the two could partially feel each other. The Warcaster could even see out of the Warjack's eyes, if he needed to. Some 'jacks had older Cortexes that were prone to developing minute programming errors that wound up in "personality" quirks. All Steamjacks were about as smart as an average dog, and many of the ones that developed such quirks would begin building a relationship with a preferred Warcaster that was called a Bond. Bonded Warjacks were also, inevitably, the favorites of "their" Warcasters, too.

"Coalchester!" Link shouted excitedly. "You recovered him!"

Still warming up, the Warjack shuddered from side to side, and gave a _*HISS*_ of steam, which Link knew to be a pleased gesture from the steel behemoth.

Over the growing din, Nemo announced "Compliments of the reinstated Beth Maddox, who was on patrol in your old stomping grounds near Highgate. She recognized this old soldier for who he was, and sent him home. Is it true that this Avenger took on four Slayers before going down?"

"Took down four Slayers, General," replied Link, happy to be reunited with his friend, "it took a fifth one to finally take him out of the fight. We were pressed for time, had to make sure the Cryx fleet didn't gain a foothold they could strike New Larkholme from, otherwise I would have dug him out of the mud myself. You tell Miss Maddox that I owe her and her crew a round of the good stuff if I make it back."

Stepping towards Coalchester, Link reached up and pulled the sheet off the Centurion-chassis, Avenger-model Warjack. Instead of the Lanayru blue he expected, a brand new coat of pitch black paint nearly reflected his shocked expression at the change.

"Like the new paint job?" Nemo asked, smirking. "Lady Impa told me you needed to have all ties with Lanayru cut, so I did a few modifications."

Looking closer, Link could tell. The top layer of double armor, which had the Lanayru Province emblem embossed on it had been removed, and the leg joints had been reinforced with additional plating. The new plating and some of the armor around the elbow joints had been switched from a thick single layer to two thinner layers, one a solid plate, one a molded fitting with holes drilled in it to make it lighter.

"He's going to be a bit more fragile this time around, but he should make up for it in speed. Also, we've got you some non-standard armaments, an old Caspian Battleblade and a Lancer shield set for stun, so people will think you just scavenged it and it doesn't work right."

"General…" Link started. "I don't know what to say."

Nemo shook his head. "If Impa is right about what's going on, and she seems to think she is, you're going to need all the help you can get. But you're welcome anyway. Get out there, and show those Trials what-for."

Link saluted enthusiastically. "Yes sir!"


End file.
